Scared is the excuse everyone has always used
by fairestparrillafics
Summary: In New York, the team are left floundering over a confusing case with no leads and more victims piling up in front of them. Suddenly, things become a whole lot more personal with a welcomed blast from the past. However, things begin to get darker and the team will be rocked to the core with sickly revelations of a destroyed childhood. Rating may go up. Allusions to rape and abuse.
1. There is no refuge from memory

_Piercing winds attacked the small log cabin relentlessly, stray gusts penetrating through the cracked glass and uncovered holes, causing the temperatures in the already numbing room to decline further. She'd only seen this one room, this one, dingy room. Cobwebs hung from the window and the unused light swaying above her as it was caught by the ferocious wind. The eerie, creaking of the lamp as it moved back and forth through the air made the feeling of dread in the girl's stomach worsen as she remained curled up in a ball in the corner of the room. From this area of the room, she had a good view of the crumbling wall that supported a fireplace that would have looked grand if it was dusted and lit. Something told her flames had not danced around within the structure for an age as dust was the only thing within its burning chambers. There were a couple of candles on the ledge of the huge, useless fireplace and cautiously she made her way over to them and with trembling hands took one in her hand, melted wax dropping to the floor, close to her feat. The candles had been her only source of light whilst she had been here. She didn't know hold long she had been trapped… she had been walking home from school when one of her daddy's friends had picked her up. Something had stopped them and she couldn't remember what that something was, but everything hurt. Her arms, her legs, her head. Her free, shaking hand worked its way over to the source of her pain located on her forehead, her dainty fingers feeling dampness under them. Gulping, thinking the worse, she walked forwards and towards the damaged door ahead of her, pushing it open and listening to the prolonged creak of rusted components groaning as they had to whirl into action for the first time in an age. Peaking her head around the side of the frame, she couldn't see anything or anyone, so took the small steps necessary to leave the room - when she finally was in the hall she scampered away with small thuds of feet attempting to remain unnoticed._

_Once, her daddy had told her to do something if she ever found herself lost or away from home for any other reason, find a phone. She had to try and make contact with someone; she didn't know her house number but she knew the police line of course. Shuddering she began the journey to locate a phone to get out of wherever she was. She had been able to determine two things though, they were somewhere out in the wilderness, the trees she could see through the windows were in abundance and were quite the indicator to this fact, and she was alone. Whoever had brought her here had gone. Maybe to get help or maybe to go out for a drink like her mommy and her man-friend did every night. She'd be doing her homework and they would stumble into the living room smelling like something her daddy had once described as revolting when he had been around. He was usually at work though when this happened, so she had to do her homework alone and had to deal with the revolting smell solo. But her daddy had told her to never end up like her mommy and her man-friend, she assumed it was because the smell was sickening and would probably make people not like her. It had made daddy not like mommy anyway. _

_Thoughts of a broken family left her head and she focused on the picnic she and her parents had once gone on when things were better. The food was great, because her daddy had prepared it and not her mommy, and they had sat by a lake, throwing bread at ducks and had spent the day laughing and gossiping between each other. That had been one of the last good days. Before the smell and before the accident… she never talked about the accident because it made her sad and made her mommy and her man-friend angry. Which made her get more upset as they shouted at each other and then at her. Another sort of liquid was dripping down her face now, unlike the crimson substance before it, it was clear and cleansing in a way. Her mommy always told her to stop crying so she tried to do that._

_Free hand wiping away the tears, she reached a door, scratched and covered in red streaks. Gulping, she pushed it open and with an echoing creak similar to the last one, she edged her way into the room, holding the candle aloft to get a good view of its contents. There was no phone, she could see that immediately. Plain walls were hosts to a ruined floor and a stained mattress that was precariously placed upon a rusted bed frame. There were no windows but the wind was still seeping in somehow. Deciding to continue her search, the small girl rushed backwards, not looking behind her as she did so. Resulting in her bumping against an obstacle that had not been there when she had entered the box room. Nervously, she froze, her grip on the candle tightening._

"_What do you think you're doing you-" the man began, but she didn't hear anymore as all her focus was on the fact his grime covered hands were gripping at her. One around her arm and the other clamped over her mouth. Making her screams muffled and obscure. He simply laughed and after the excruciating events that occurred not long after his arrival, the girl found herself curled up in the corner once more. Hours and hours of agonizing pain inflicted on her leaving her crumpled in the corner as he snored on the filthy mattress. She found herself doing something her mother would disapprove of if she had seen her. Crying. _

"_Tell anyone and you're dead…"_

"Guys! We have another case," A frantic JJ declared as she rushed past the desks of the team with files stacked within her arms, heading towards the round table. Casting a glance at each other, Reid and Morgan jumped up and followed the blonde, being joined by Emily with a steaming coffee in hand.

"Do we have any idea what is going on or?" Emily asked the boys as she tried to get the lid of her coffee, whilst walking at pace, and not spilling the boiling liquid down herself.

"No, but it looks pretty urgent," Morgan replied, gesturing at an hectic JJ who had gained speed and was way ahead of them, already walking up to Hotch and Rossi who were sat waiting at the table. JJ quickly placed the files in front of them and the three other agents sat down at the spare seats.

"Okay, so, we are wanted in New York," JJ informed them as she opened her own file to present the team with the needed information. "Four women in the past eight days have been found raped and murdered," she added as the team looked down at the happy, smiling photo's of the victims who would have had no idea the memories they were capturing in that moment would end up on a treated FBI desk whilst agents poured over them in order to bring justice to whoever violated and killed them in such an abhorrent way.

"Do we have any connections between the women?" Hotch asked as he looked away from the four photos and up to JJ for answers.

"No, not yet, but we can have a closer look on the jet. We need to get going right now," JJ told them. Hotch nodded and Rossi was the first to collect all the files up and leave the room. He was followed by Hotch who in turn was followed by JJ. Lagging behind once more were Reid, Emily and Morgan who left the room each looking down at the faces of the four victims, the photos not leaving their hands until they reached the jet, when they were spread across tables in an attempt to link the four together somehow.

They'd found nothing.

When the jet landed, the team immediately departed the landing zone and rushed over to SUV's waiting for them. The hours spent on the Jet, coming up with unlikely possibilities, had lead to nothing. They were no closer to catching the criminal than they had been back around the table in Quantico. Frustrated, they continued to rack their brains for something, anything, as they trundled towards the police station where they would hopefully have more to work with waiting for them.

"Hotch; do you think we'll able to do this before we have another victim? We have nothing…" Emily sighed, picking at her nails as she did so.

"I hope so," Hotch sighed heavily, brow furrowed in thought, knowing that, unfortunately, there would probably be another victim on their hands during their time in the city.

**I know this ended in a rubbish way but the next chapter delves into the case so I thought, end it on the way to the station and pick up when they arrive. So yeah, everything will be explained in time. I hope you enjoyed this enough to stick with me. And if you are reading my: The Strings Inside Her Broke fanfiction, I will hopefully update that soon. I'm just suffering from feelings so am struggling to write about the two of them without sobbing over the keyboard. But anyway, thank you for reading and I appreciate any reviews/favorites/follows/whatever, they mean a lot. Thanks! Megan 3**


	2. Now comes the Mystery

"Thank you for coming," A policeman, who introduced himself as Officer Rodriguez, told the team as they all walked up through the station and into a room cleared out just for them and their gear in the hope it would result in a quicker capture of the monstrous killer.

"Thank you for having us," was Hotch's professional reply, which came accompanied with a small nod of acknowledgement that the police officer returned.

"I'm really glad you're finally here, and so are those guys," Rodriguez said, gesturing over his shoulder towards the assorted members of the force who were torn between finishing paperwork and staring at the BAU. Sighing, Rodriguez pushed the door shot, blocking their awe filled stares. Whilst he mumbled something under his breath about his colleges, the team managed to get a proper look at this man, each profiling him mentally as they did so. Late forties at the most, well built, slightly tanned - he obviously looked after himself and took pride in his appearance. He was a total professional, well ironed uniform not coming untucked or unbuttoned and his shiny black hair was gelled back and off his face. Whilst he had the potential to be labeled as a cold, cut off person, the team knew better. He had been nothing but friendly on the way to the station, showing remorse when the cases came up and breaking the silence with jokes and sincere questions about the team's well being and if they had experienced a good journey over to the state. With the door finally shut, he continued, "Look, we are all at a loss. This guy, whoever is doing this, we have nothing,"

"No eyewitnesses? No evidence?" JJ asked, sitting down and looking up at the man carefully.

"Nothing. We've started a call-in service though. If anyone knows anything they can just phone us up," Rodriguez started.

"That's a start," Rossi murmured in thought, beginning to pace around the room with concentration etched in his features. "Do you have anything else in place?"

"Patrols in the area. Four women in eight days? We have cars driving around every street. They are out as we speak," Rodriguez told them.

"Could we drive out and join the patrols for a while?" Hotch asked, "See how things are set up and get a feel for the area?"

"Sure, I'll get the car ready," Rodriguez said with a nod, going to depart the scene.

"Officer!" Hotch yelled quickly, causing the man to spin back around with haste, "Could we send a couple of agents around homes in the area? Just so we can see if there are any high risk potential victims?"

"Sure thing," Rodriguez nodded before leaving.

"Right… Morgan and I will join the patrols. Dave, you and Prentiss go around the houses close to the murder sites and talk to people. If you think anyone you meet is at risk I want you to sit them down and talk to them, go through some safety regulations. We don't want any more deaths,"

"What should we be looking for in potential victims?" Emily asked immediately after Aaron's instruction.

"Well, they were all brunette," Reid said, flicking through the pictures again, "All on the small side, wouldn't be able to put up a fight. According to their file thirties to forties,"

"That leaves us with hundreds of possible-"

"No. Once you talk to them you'll probably be able to tell if they are potential victim appeal. And I know there will be a lot, but if we don't do this there could be more deaths," Hotch told Emily and Rossi who were preparing to leave the station.

"We won't rest until every home near the sites has been visited and clued up on what is happening," Emily said.

"And if the killer is in one of the homes, we could scare him into messing up," Morgan added.

"Or make the killings escalate…" JJ murmured.

"Let's hope we accomplish the former," Rossi sighed, "We'll see you in a couple of hours," he told the team before walking out of the doors with Emily by his side. Sighing, Hotch turned back to the team, instructed Reid and JJ to stay with at the station to help in any way possible, then he and Morgan were out of the door too and heading towards the car Rodriguez had at the ready to join the patrols of the area.

"Okay, she was lovely company," Emily murmured as the two agents left yet another graffiti stained house in a rundown area. They had left the green grassed, white fenced picturesque houses thrust into the neighborhoods and had entered the overlooked, crime filled areas of the city full of low life's and those unable to get away from their bad roots.

"It can only get better right?" Rossi asked, walking across the street and knocking on a slightly scratched wooden door with a pretty poor paint job done on it.

"Fingers crossed," Emily sighed, rocking back and forth on her feet as they heard heavy footsteps echo from the other side of the door as whoever was beyond it was approaching them to allow them entrance into their less than homely place of residence.

"Hello?" Came the soft female voice after bolts were unlocked and the door was opened slightly with a loud clicking.

"Hi!" Emily said, maybe a little too happily due to the fact the woman in front of them wasn't a drunk, tattooed, hostile being who stank of drugs and alcohol, "I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Agent Rossi, can we come in?" she then added, her voice becoming the professional tone expected.

"Um… sure," the woman said, opening the door wider to grant them entry. "Has something happened?" She asked as the three headed towards the living room.

"I'm sure you are aware of the recent murders," Rossi began as the three sat down in the small living room. David and Emily on the small sofa and the woman across from them on an old looking couch chair.

"I've seen stuff on the news yeah,"

"Well, we are just going around the area talking to people, to inform them on how to keep themselves safer in these times,"

"Considerate of you," The woman said, speaking with a small amount of confidence for the first time, just as Emily got up and began to look around the room.

"Have you ever gotten into trouble Miss…?"

"Greenaway. And yes I have, and I've learnt how to defend myself,"

"What kind of trouble?" Emily asked, looking at a set of assorted photo's in expensive looking frames that appeared to be out of place amongst the otherwise low quality arrangements. "If you don't mind me asking,"

"Well, seeing as you are the FBI I assume I don't have much choice in telling you," the woman sighed, leaning back in her seat as she did so. "And I also guess if I don't tell you, you'll just assume I'm on the suspicious side and get Pe- your tech to dig up information on me and find everything out anyway,"

"You're pretty clued up,"

"I watch TV," She replied in a cool tone, "Where do I start… my dad was shot dead when I was a kid, after that I clued myself up in the world of martial arts, I was attacked, shot… so yeah, I've learnt how to defend myself and it comes in handy when you live in this neighborhood,"

"I'm sorry to hear you had to experience all that," Rossi said in a soft tone, getting nothing but a shrug from the woman who had elected to look down at her socked feet instead of David.

"Excuse me, not be rude or anything, but do you have anything to drink? My throat's a little dry…" Emily asked politely, looking across to the woman who nodded slowly.

"I haven't been to the shops yet so I can only offer you water or lumpy milk and I'm assuming the latter isn't to your tastes,"

"Water will be fine thanks," Emily said with a small laugh as the woman left the room and walked across to the kitchen. "Dave… come look at this,"

"'My throats a little dry', you're a little liar," David said as he stood up and joined Emily at the pictures, "What the…" his mood changing completely after coming across the sight.

"Here's your water,"

Emily and Rossi both looked up and looked across at the woman who was stood, leaning against the doorframe with a glass of water in her hands and her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Thank you," Emily said after a moment of silence, walking across the small room and taking the glass from her.

"Can I ask you something?" Not waiting to hear the answer, "Why are you looking at my personal photos?"

"Who is the man in these?" Rossi asked, pointing at a picture that hadn't been the focus of his or Emily's attention.

"My cousin,"

"Does he live in this area?"

"As a matter of fact he lives in this house. I moved in with him a few years back. He's at work right now,"

"Work? What sort of work?"

"I don't know. Receptionist or something? Whatever it is, it's pretty boring so I didn't make a great deal of effort to try and remember the details," The woman told him. Rossi smirked at her answer before asking, "And what about you? What is your occupation? Something a little more interesting than a receptionist or something?"

"I work in a local bar, nightshift. With all the creeps and scum you can say it's more interesting yeah," she sighed, walking across the room and to the photos, "Any more questions or are we done here?" Her hand coming to rest upon a frame next to the photo that had alerted Emily and Rossi's interest. Her hand covering her face but framing that of a small girl's who was grinning up at the camera.

"Yes, I think that is everything, thanks for your time," Rossi said, holding his hand out to shake the woman's hand. She took it, unlike the other residents of the area who had opted to just stare at the thing in ignorance. After shaking his she proceeded to shake Emily's too.

"I hope you find the scumbag responsible for this," She told them as she walked with them to the front door.

"I goes without saying but… we hope so too," Emily told her as the two left, the door getting shut behind them quickly.

"The picture… what do you think?"

"We need to get the team back together; we need to talk about this…"

"And she went to say Penelope before she mentioned the tech, David, the picture, who is she?"

"Get the team to meet up back at the station, we'll sort something out, I want to know everything about this suspicious Miss Greenaway…"

**The ending sucked but this chapter needed to happen to help the future action get placed into motion. To the guest who reviewed, korenyx and Chennile - this chapter is dedicated to you for your reviews that continue to inspire me to write. I also want to thank the people who decided to follow this, thank you so much! I'll try to update sometime soon, with something better than this hopefully.**


	3. What we see depends on what we look for

"Okay team, what have we got?" Aaron asked as he strode into the makeshift meeting room set up for the team for the duration of the investigation, "We've got nothing," he then added, sitting down in his seat as Morgan finally appeared behind his boss.

"We haven't accomplished much either," JJ sighed. "We've started researching our four victims,"

"They don't have much in common minus similarity in appearance," Reid added, running a hand through his messy locks. "Anna Mills, thirty seven, she was a waitress at a restraunt. No kids, no husband…"

"Then we have Abigail Jones, thirty one, she was unemployed with two children and a fiancée," JJ informed them.

"Our third victim was Katie Byram, thirty three years old and just embarking on a teaching career. Her boyfriend said he thought she was at a friend's house when she went missing,"

"Finally, Nicola Ward, thirty five and worked at the local strip club," JJ said, folding her arms across her chest as she leant back in her chair, "She also had no kids or a husband, but was apparently 'close' to her boss,"

"So we have four women, slightly different ages, totally different backgrounds and that leaves us…?" Derek sighed impatiently.

"Nowhere. Not yet anyway. Minus their looks, nothing links them. We have Garcia looking them all up back in her cave," JJ told him.

"What does the fact they were found two nights apart tell us?"

"Our Unsub is extremely organized? He's managed to locate, lure, kill and dump four women without drawing attention to his self in such a short amount of time," Derek offered.

"And if his cooling off period is the same, he'll be killing again tonight," JJ added, sending the room into silence. Broken not by a quirky phone call from Garcia or the hustle of the police station, but by Emily and David who came rushing into the room with determination powering their hasty trip.

"Please tell us you have something because we are potentially looking at another victim on our hands tonight," Aaron told the two of them who hadn't even bothered to sit down in their chairs yet.

"Yes. We think. Maybe," Emily told them, leaving the team in a state of bewilderment and anticipation. After a beat, the brunette added a quick, "It's confusing,"

"We were talking to some very interesting people… housewives to incredibly scary beings," Rossi told them, "When we stumbled across this beaten up place and the woman in it was the owner of a very strange thing,"

"A picture of you guys," Emily quickly informed them before the team could ask.

"What?"

"It was crazy weird. It had to be an older picture because you all looked younger," Rossi told them. "You had a lot less gray in your hair for a start Aaron,"

"Jokes aside," Aaron began with a raised eyebrow shot at the older man, "This photo, what was it? When was it took?"

"Dunno, it was sunny," Emily began.

"That helps,"

"I wasn't finished smartass," Emily told her interrupter, a certain Derek Morgan, before playfully slapping him around the head, "Anyway, you were all happy and smiling and she was on the photo so it isn't like you have a stalker,"

"So we know this woman?" Derek asked.

"Yes, you must do," Rossi said, pulling out a notebook and flicking through the pages, "Greenaway, if that name means anything to you?"

Silence flooded the room once again, each member of the team shocked into such a state that left them unable to form simple words that informed their co-workers what they were thinking. Finally, Aaron managed to mumble a stunned and soft, "Elle?"

"I'll get Garcia," Derek quickly said, leaning across the treated table and opening the laptop up. His furious clicks of the keys being the only source of noise in the building hush of the room. Each member of the team was stuck in a various state of shock, either from knowing the woman in question or having no idea how the words 'Greenaway' and 'Elle' could have such an impact on the team.

"Hello mortals, how may I help you today? You know, minus running background searches on murder victims," Penelope said as the FBI wallpaper turned to a webcam window.

"Baby Girl, this is urgent," Derek said, "We need you to run a search on Elle Greenaway,"

"Elle? No… she isn't dead is she-"

"No, no she isn't," Derek told the scared expert, "But we need her current info, quickly,"

"On it!" Garcia told them after a relieved deep breath. Seconds later she was launching into explanation, "Okay, so I won't bother with what we already know about Elle because that wastes everyone's time and we don't exactly have a nice deadline… after leaving the BAU she lived in Cuba with her mother for… around two years, then she and her cousin moved back to her native New York. She's lived here for a year, her cousin is called Carlos Roberto Casales and works as a receptionist at the local High School. He also works at a homeless shelter on the weekends. He is clean and a good law abiding citizen. Seems like a nice guy. Oooh…"

"What?"

"He's got a nice face. That's all," Penelope said, earning a shake of the head from Morgan, "You asked… anyway, Elle works at a bar called 'Ventura', she's also had no run-ins with the law which, I've gotta be honest with you guys, surprises me because we all know what she's like. I hope she doesn't discover I said that because lord have mercy otherwise. But yeah, she's clean too. Her only record since Lee is the fact she was in a fight three months ago. Outside a nightclub, someone went for her cousin, she did what she does best, he fought back. She got a black eye, a couple of cuts and he ended up with a broken leg but after that nothing happened. He was cautioned, she was let off due to self defense… charges dropped… but yeah, there you go,"

"Thanks Garcia,"

"No problemo my amazing piece of…" Garcia began, trailing off in thought, "Why do you need this?"

"Emily and Rossi think they've bumped into her, I'll call you if we find anything else out," Derek told her, saying a goodbye and cutting the connection.

"So you know her?" Emily said, looking around at the four agents who had worked alongside Elle, "You worked with her?"

"You replaced her once she left," Aaron told her.

"She's the agent who left because the shooting?"

"Yeah," Hotch said, standing up, "And we need to talk to her. Who's coming?"

"I'll come," Spencer said, jumping up immediately.

"Room for another?" JJ asked just as Derek hastily spoke a, "I'll join too,"

"We can't have four agents at a time guys," Aaron sighed.

"You go," JJ told Derek after a second, "You were closer to her,"

"You sure?"

"Yeah,"

"Thank you," Derek said, unable to hide the small smile forming at the edges of his lips. "Come on then you two," He added, struggling to make his tone a professional one as he sped from the room, joined by a just as eager Spencer Reid.

"I'd best get going, keep searching our victims, get a profile together, we'll be back soon," Hotch told the three agents remaining at the station before exiting just as quickly as the younger male's before him.

"So, JJ, you wanna tell us what that was all about?" Rossi asked, looking bewildered due to the events that had unfolded in front of him moments previously. "We talked to a former agent?"

"You may want to sit down," JJ said, gesturing to empty chairs that Emily and David quickly sat in, in order to hear the details on a case that was rapidly getting too personal for many of the agents.

**JustPassingBy, Graveygraves, Chennile, lizzabet, thank you so much for your reviews! They mean a lot and to those who mentioned the depressing lack of all things fierce and sassy (aka, Elle Greenaway) I agree, there needs to be a lot more of her around. This chapter is for you guys for giving me the motivation to continue with this. Massive thanks for the people who read this and followed and the like, it always is lovely to get your inbox up to see emails from that show me you guys actually like this. This chapter is a bit of a filler to lead onto what happens next, hopefully it is good enough. Fingers crossed you enjoy this! For anyone reading my other fic, The Strings Inside Her Broke (Also Elle centered, can you see a pattern here?) I'm looking to update that soon and I may even update my Hayffie fic because that's been getting reviews from people wanting to see more and I've certainly not given up on writing it.**

**Megan**


	4. The Simple Act of Waiting

"As a child, the UnSub would have either wet the bed, set fires or was cruel to animals. In some cases, the killer displays multiple or all of these tendencies, he would have had trouble in school…" Emily began, talking to the assembled Police Officers who were desperately and eagerly scribbling down notes they absorbed from her words with professional haste.

"…As an adult, life wouldn't have gotten easy for them. They'll be reclusive, they perhaps won't be able to hold a job, they could have problems with family, or lack of," Rossi added. The remaining team members had to present a profile of the killer to the Officers, a killer they could barely get an image of. They had to go with the basics.

"We suspect that the killer acts on lust, driven to kill due to sexual motivation. He finds his victims attractive and acts on that," JJ then informed the officers who continued to jot down the profile with dedication.

"We probably looking for a Caucasian male, ninety percent of known serial killers are, approximately. From the age of the victims, he is likely to be middle aged. He'll be smart-" Emily started.

"You said he would have had trouble in school," an officer interrupted.

"Yes, although Serial Killers, in general, are intelligent, they have problems in school with their performance," Emily continued.

"Our guy will also be socially inept,"

"This is one of the reasons why he'll have trouble getting and holding a job," JJ said, picking up from the sentence Rossi had finished previously.

"When you look into his background, it is likely he'll come from a dysfunctional family. Due to the aggression of the murders, we can assume the woman is a substitute for his mother. Maybe she abandoned him, maybe he feels that she wasn't a good mother, maybe she wasn't… but it is common for Serial Killers to come from a broken background," Emily told them, pausing for a second so the officers could get everything down, the only sound in the room being the scratching of pens upon notebook paper and the faint ringing of a telephone in the distant offices.

"Also, he won't stop until he completes his mission, so we'll have to catch him before he succeeds," Rossi finished, his words hung in the now silent air. Heavy. He nodded at the officers and departed the room. Emily and JJ followed.

"So…" Emily started when the door swung shut behind them, "Now we've got that over with, what were you saying about this Elle Greenaway?"

Away from the Police Station and in the depths of the forgotten streets frequently grasped in the clutches of crime and vandalism, a SUV containing Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan was bumping its way along the damaged roads. Numerous times, Hotch had to weave around an obstruction in his path. Most often these obstacles were extremely drunk men and women who, despite it still been light out at five to six in the evening, were already out of their minds due to intoxication at astronomical levels that could only be achieved by idiotic dedication.

"Why would Elle live in a place like this?" Derek asked, the question of all of their minds, when Hotch had to blast the horn at a man who was numbly shuffling across the road in a painfully slow show of alcohol induced restriction. Silence was the only answer and the three continued at a professional pace, fast but cautious, extremely eager but trying not to let on, even if their respective performances at the Station had already given away their true feelings on the prospect of finally seeing their former colleague after so many years.

Finally, the SUV was parked on the curb haphazardly and the three men jumped out from the doors. Hotch with his gun hidden behind his suit, Spencer with his obscured by his jumper and baggy trouser waistband he so dangerously restrained it in but Derek allowed his gun holster to remain in view around his waist. Perhaps, because, he was Derek Morgan, but it also served as a warning sign to a gang sat on neglected, metallic containers once used as recycling bins who had been paying close attention to the expensive vehicle as it rounded the corner.

"Woah, Rossi wasn't joking when he said this place was beat up," Derek said with a small gasp finishing his sentence. No sooner had he finished, a group of scantily clad women had stumbled out of a house that could only just be described as a house, bringing with them the harsh volumes of laughing and the unmistakable stench of drugs and alcohol coalesced together with revulsion.

"Hi sweetie, you want to join us?" One of the gang asked a taken aback Spencer, whose reply was an awkward, embarrassed mumble, making their cacophonous laughs louder and more dissonant within each other.

"We are here on official business," Hotch said, turning around and pulling his badge out, taking the women by surprise, "So he shall be staying with us, sorry to disappoint," and with that they were gone, the badge killing the laughter until the women were out of sight and it vaguely started up again.

"Thanks," Reid said, slightly red in the face. Hotch nodded and moved on, Derek followed his boss and lightly patted Spencer on the back as he passed the frozen team member, his laugh a lot more welcome than theirs had been.

"Come on pretty boy; let's go find us a woman who won't hit on you,"

"I have missed Elle," Spencer replied, following a highly amused Morgan. Hotch had put ground between him and the two in the time it had taken for Reid to regain control of any progressive movement, but his sudden stop allowed the laughing agents to catch up, finding the stony faced professional looking down at the piece of paper Rossi had ripped from his notebook, giving Hotch the simple words he needed to locate her. Her address.

"We're here," Hotch told them, turning to face Spencer and Derek, gesturing towards a small bungalow located in the midst of other damaged one floored houses that blended in with the grimy flats and broken scenery with ease. It was once white, with curtain drawn windows surrounded by a crumbling paintjob rivaled only by the scratched at decaying black of the door in terms of appalling appearance.

"That's where Elle lives. In there. You sure, Hotch?" Derek asked, glancing down at the paper held loosely in Aaron's had for confirmation. "Well… who wants to, you know, knock?"

"This feels weird…" Spencer began, silenced by Hotch starting towards the door with a craving purpose. Just as his knuckles attacked the door, Spencer and Derek joined him on the front step, able to hear movement from beyond it. This was it… no going back… they could finally see her, finally get their answers, find a resolution.

Slowly, the lock hidden from view was disabled and the door groaned as the person beyond it opened it… this was it…

"Elle," Hotch started, just as the person came into view and out of the threatening possession of the somber shadows…

**Hi guys! I'm sick so fanfiction writing will hopefully help! Anyway, enough about me, I want to thank my reviewers, Sheepie, Chennile and the Anon, for their kind and motivating words. Sheepie, I'm sorry this update took more than a few hours but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I'm totally considering that zombie idea you brought up by the way. Chennile, I'm glad to help fix the Elle sized hole, even though it can never be truly fixed. You're the awesome one for continuing to give me your support with your reviews. And Anon, I don't just write for my enjoyment, I write for the readers too, and to read what you left me meant a lot, I'm not going to lie. I'm glad I helped to put you in a better mood, and thank you. The fourth chapter is dedicated to you guys, and the readers who keep me going. Thank you for your support and I hope you all enjoy this. Hopefully Chapter Five will be up soon.**


End file.
